Free to Fly
by Neko Kuroban
Summary: Sometimes it's hard to separate reality and fantasy. Heero/Relena.
1. Blood

Free to Fly

A _Gundam Wing _Fanfiction

By Neko Kuroban

* * *

_Blood colored his vision. _

_Thankfully, the sharp bursts of pain seemed to be ebbing away, slowly morphing into a dull ache. __With a great deal of difficulty, the young soldier managed to raise one hand to his eyes, but he saw it as red-hued. It, too, looked as if it were encrusted in a layer of blood, just the same as everything else. _How fitting,_he decided. _Hands covered in blood._ He let out a low groan. When would the pain fade into nothingness? _

_When would he fade into nothingness?_

_He was only vaguely aware of his surroundings, yet he still knew what was going on. Intellectually, he knew that his clothing was torn and ragged from many days of wear. He knew that his hair was filthy and matted, and he knew the unyielding coldness beneath him was stone. _

_He could feel all of the people he had ever killed laughing. _

_Laughing at him. _

_Allowing his eyelids to half-close, he tried to clear his mind but to no avail. To his immense disgust, he could remember it all. Every curse he had ever muttered in reference to them, every single death threat that had ever passed his lips. Their faces, their pleas, their screams for help - it all faded into a blur. Instead, he focused instead on that collective, uproarious laugh. It was sharp and stinging, full of malevolence and devoid of any mirth. It left him feeling naked and exposed, vulnerable to anything._

_Was this how it was to die?_

_He had expected the world to fade to black. Instead, it all seemed be growing clearer and sharper. A moment passed. And then... _

_He would have gasped aloud, had breathing not required such a tremendous effort._

She_ was here. Warriors of ancient myths had spoken of her: a valkyrie who appeared at the end of battle - not to collect souls but to inspire life._

_She was said to be beautiful._

_That did not begin to describe her._

_He could only comprehend her in bursts. Luminous skin. Eyes like stars. White, angelic wings, spread to their full span. Grace that would have made a lioness envious. Pure. Innocent. Sensual. Knowing. _

_She knelt beside him. She reached out to touch one mahogany-colored lock of his hair with her fingertips, brushing it from his forehead._

_He wanted her. The realization made him feel filthy. _

_She spoke. "Is this how you choose to die?" Her voice was like nothing he had heard before. _

_"I don't answer to a mirage," he snapped. His throat burned. _

_She laughed. The sound was impossibly, clear and ringing. "Live," she told him._

_

* * *

_

His eyes snapped open. Feeling as if any weariness had been burned away, he looked about the half-lit room. _Time...what time is it? Fuck._ The display on the digital clock screamed 5:43. _Not even six. That makes...what? Three hours of sleep? Four?_ _I might as well get up. It's not as if I'm going to get any more._ He tried to sit up, but an unexpected weight around his waist held him back. He looked down and swallowed.

Hard.

Relena lay beside him, clad in nothing more than a sheer pink nightgown. Her slender white arm was thrown over his narrow waist. Her eyelashes parted, revealing her gray-blue eyes. His movements had awakened her. "Heero? I - oh." She withdrew her arm, a furious blush crossing her face. "Sorry. I'll go back to my own room. I--"

She tried to rise to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. "Relena," he began, choosing his words carefully. "What are you doing in here?"


	2. Tears

**Free to Fly**

**A _Gundam Wing_ Fanfiction**

**Neko Kuroban**

**Chapter Two:**

**Tears**

* * *

The blanket was plain. Summer-weight, navy blue, woven cotton.

Relena stared at it as if it was fascinating - anything to avoid his Prussian-blue gaze. Normally, his eyes smoldered like twin stars, proud and defiant, cold and burning with their own light. Now, however, they were questioning and showed not a hint of sleep. She could not look at them. She knew that if she met his gaze she would start crying.

She traced her tongue slowly over her full bottom lip. Her small, even front teeth soon followed. How could she tell him? That she had awoken from an odd dream in the middle of the night? That she had been trying to convince herself to go back to bed, when she heard him scream out in his sleep?

The beach cottage (Quatre and Dorothy's term, but it was a large, rambling Victorian with a gabled roof) was thin-walled enough that she had been startled. She had gone to his room and rapped on the door. No response. She had pushed it open slightly, wondering whether he was awake. She had been surprised to see him moving, but she had quickly realized that he was only thrashing in a nightmare. As she watched from the doorway, his fist lashed out to strike the wall.

She had not been able to help herself.

Concerned, she had gone over to the large bed and sat down beside him, not knowing why. For a short while, she had sat there, watching the rise and fall of his bare, toned chest. Then, in his sleep, his features had contorted, eyebrows furrowing and lips compressing. She had reached out and stroked his hair until she saw the tension drain from his shoulders. He had wrapped his arms around her ribcage in his slumber. Leaning over slightly, she had done something then she felt was daring, even though it was only a chaste kiss on his cheek. She had let herself fell asleep beside him - and perhaps that was the most daring thing of all.

"Well?" His hold on her wrist tightened considerably, and she flinched.

"Heero! You're hurting me!"

He released her almost immediately. Her thin wrist was branded with twisting red welts in the shape of his slender fingers.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

"What was that?" She asked softly, still avoiding his gaze.

"I am…" He closed his eyes. It was as if by doing so, he believed he would not have to witness the destruction of his pride. "…Sorry, Relena."

* * *

Heero was finding the situation increasingly strange and foreign to him for myriad reasons: a) It was barely five o' clock in the morning, b) he was still tired and confused by that strange dream, c) Relena Peacecraft had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and d) she was sobbing into his shoulder.

For his part, he had no clue as how to comfort a crying female. He was not even sure _what_ she was crying about. Surely he had not hurt her that badly. Assuming she required some kind of comfort, he placed one hand just below her shoulderblades. He frowned into her long hair. _I'm getting soft,_ he thought, irritated with his own behavior. But what need did he have to be cold all the time? The war was over.

Yesterday, he had made the offhand remark that Dorothy had become more vibrant. She had flashed him a smile - not her usual smirk, but still rather self-satisfied - and quipped:_ I think we should start enjoying life._

Finally, her sobs subsided. At last, Relena spoke, "Sorry." She mumbled into his neck, her melodious voice just barely audible. "I should have realized you wouldn't want me in here. I know how much you value your privacy. But...I heard you scream last night...and I thought something was wrong…"

He swallowed and let his hand drop, letting his arm curl loosely around her waist. "Relena...why do you care so much...about me?"

Her grip on him slackened. "You don't remember me." She pulled away to look into his eyes. "Do you?"

"Remember you from where?"

"I see." She turned her head and averted her gaze. "We were about ten or eleven. I..." She trailed off and shook her head with a rare trace of bitterness. "What does it even matter?" She stifled a yawn. "I'm tired; you're tired. I'll tell you later." She got to her feet. "We'll talk in the morning. I'm going back to bed."

Once again, he caught her wrist. This time, the action was gentle. "You can stay here, if you like."

She hesitated - and then saw something in his eyes that must have made her decision. An instant later, she laid down beside him and closed her eyes. "Goodnight, Heero."

"Thank you," he murmured.

He had not intended for the words to be heard, but she answered. "For what?"

"Everything."

From the corner of his eye, he saw a pretty smile tug at her lips. "You're welcome."

He turned on his back and pulled the blanket up, covering himself as well as her. Eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he must have given off the appearance of sleep because she whispered something softly, no more than two simple syllables:

"Love you."


End file.
